


Late!!

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Children, Family, M/M, Schmoop, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Draco, three sons, and the alarm doesn’t go off in the morning when it should... chaos ensues when Scorpius wakes Harry up only moments before they are all supposed to be out the door...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late!!

**Author's Note:**

> Written in honor of my kids waking me up a solid hour after the alarm ought to have gone off this morning, and the whole lot of us still managing to be on time to work and school. Absolutely unbetad; the only one to blame for the errors is me.
> 
> Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling; I just like to play with them sometimes. No infringement is intended.

Harry heard the knocking around the edges of his consciousness. He rolled over, burrowing deeper into the covers, tucking himself close to his husband’s warm body and tried to ignore it.

“Dad! _DAD!_ ”

“Mmph.” Consciousness came slowly, not helped by the languid stretch of the man in his arms. “Whaisit?”

“We’re _late!_ ”

Late. Tuesday. Morning.

School. Work.

Fuck.

Harry grabbed his glasses and rolled out of bed, reaching for the pajama bottoms he’d discarded on the floor the night before, struggling into them as he hopped towards the door. Behind him on the bed, his husband rolled over, pulling the blankets up to hide a quick flash of pale blond hair. Bloody hell, he didn’t have time to fight with him.

“M’coming!” he called out. “Go eat breakfast.”

“Scorpius ate all the toast! James made _five slices_ and Scorpius ate _all of it!_ ”

Harry groaned at the sound of their youngest son’s voice raised in childish outrage. He pulled the door open and stood there for a moment, staring at the three boys who were sprawled across the two couches in the living room.

“Your hair’s an awful mess,” James observed, his own hair not-quite-neatly combed. The boy nudged his glasses up his nose, blinking owlishly at his father. Harry pushed his own glasses up in response, as he always seemed to do.

“Albie won’t stop crying,” Scorpius said, his arms crossed, eyes rolling so hard Harry wondered sometimes if it were possible he could dislocate them.

“Albie’s five,” Harry reminded him as he scooped up his youngest son, still pajama clad and with marmalade sticky at the corners of his mouth. “Albie, have you been in the marmalade pot _without_ the toast?”

“Scorpius _ate_ the toast,” Albus pointed out. “What else was I to eat?”

James snickered, and Harry darted a look at him. “James, get your things together and make a lunch for yourself and your brothers. I’m going to get Albie cleaned up.”

“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Scorpius pointed out, following Harry down the hall to the room the two youngest boys shared. If they ever had another, they were going to need a larger flat. Or a house, perhaps, although Draco seemed oddly pleased by living in a place this small. Harry didn’t care as long as no one slept in the cupboard under the stairs.

“I know,” he said patiently. “We’ll be going to Aunt Hermione’s and Uncle Ron’s for dinner that night. And Aunt Ginny said she’ll be there.”

“Tomorrow we have a field trip.” Scorpius blinked pale eyes, expression innocent. “We’re going to see the dragon exhibit.”

“I know that as well. I signed the permission slip and sent in the galleon cost last week, Scor.”

“But it means we can’t have _cupcakes_ tomorrow.” Scorpius’ lower lip started to quiver.

Harry couldn’t take the time to watch the brewing tantrum. He set Albus on the floor and summoned clean clothes, trying to strip Albus and cleanse his face and redress him all at once.

“Five minutes till the Floo’s ready!” James called out. At ten, he was their clock watcher, making certain all three boys didn’t miss the Floo opening for their primary school.

Harry groaned. “Alright then, we’ll bring in cupcakes on Thursday, Scorpius. I haven’t time to have cupcakes today.”

The quivering lip turned to a broken sob. “But Mrs. Pendergast said I ought to bring in the cupcakes _today_ because Niles has a birthday on _Thursday_ and it wouldn’t be _fair_ if we had to share!”

Harry wrestled with Albus’ shirt, trying to figure out how one child could manage to seem to have six arms instead of two when it came time to get him dressed. He finally tugged it down, then realized it was on inside out and backwards as Albus tugged at it.

Albus grinned. “I like it this way. I’ll be _special_ today. Thank you, Daddy.” He gave his father an impromptu hug, then ran off.

“Wash your face again!” Harry called after him. “James, help your brother wash his face!”

“Two minutes!” James called back, an almost note of panic in his voice. Harry pushed his fingers through his hair, wondering where the hell James had gotten his obsession with being on time. Although he supposed it was good that one of them had it, since the rest of them seemed to perpetually run late.

Harry crouched down, holding out his arms, waiting patiently until Scorpius deigned to snuggle in close. “How about pastries for breakfast?” he suggested. “Your friends can eat them before you go on your field trip.” And the teacher would love him, he was sure, for giving the children sugar before a trip. But it was the best he could figure after only being awake a few moments. “Or fruit,” he suggested, hoping that it might be better.

But Scorpius was already smiling, kissing his father on the cheek. “Pastries is _perfect_. I’ll tell Mrs. Pendergast you’ll bring me in tomorrow with them. I love you, Daddy.”

“ _One minute!_ ” James’s voice was shrill.

“Go on out.” Harry nudged Scorpius out the door and took a moment to stretch before walking back to the living room. Fire swirled up in the Floo as Harry gave the three boys one last quick look. James shoved lunch sacks at the two younger boys, then leapt into the flames and disappeared. Scorpius followed a moment later, but Harry grabbed Albus and tried to wipe off the last of the marmalade before letting him go.

It was quiet when the flames faded, and Harry had a moment, finally, to breathe.

He stumbled back to his bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He felt it shift as Draco rolled towards him, a hand lightly stroking his back.

“Everyone off safely to school?”

“You could’ve gotten up to help,” Harry pointed out.

“I didn’t hear them calling Papa,” Draco retorted. “They wanted you.”

Draco tugged on Harry, and he went backwards willingly, stretching out next to his husband. “Only because they know they’ll never manage to get their Papa out of bed so easily,” Harry laughed, the sound turning into a sigh.

“Perhaps you ought to remember to set your alarm properly next time.” Fingers trailed over Harry’s chest, Draco following them with light kisses.

Harry groaned. “Draco, I’m already late. I ought to’ve been ready to go as soon as they were through the Floo.”

“Exactly.” Draco smirked, one eyebrow arching. “You’re already late. What’s another hour going to do?”

He had a point, Harry decided, falling back as Draco came up to cover him. He was already late. He might as well make the best of it, after all. He kissed his husband thoroughly, and settled in to enjoy waking up.


End file.
